


Rage

by CheshireSense (cywscross)



Series: UraIchi Unconnected Word Shorts [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Future Fic, Injury, M/M, Post-Canon, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/pseuds/CheshireSense
Summary: Just because Kisuke doesn't get angry often doesn't mean he can't.





	Rage

 

Generally speaking, Kisuke does not interfere in Ichigo’s battles. He gathers information for him, names and abilities of their enemies, all the tools he might need as he and whichever friends are with him at the time hare off after the latest villain who’s taking their - reasonable or unreasonable - frustrations out on Soul Society, and Kisuke remains a phone call or message or occasional meet-up away throughout the entire crisis, ready to lend a hand should Ichigo need it. But for the most part, he leaves the final standoffs and ultimate showdowns to Ichigo, partly because Ichigo’s always proven capable of coming out on top, and partly because _someone_ needs to watch Ichigo’s back from the shadows, and Kisuke’s never been the full-frontal attack type anyway.

But once in a while, when necessary, Kisuke _does_ take to the battlefield. Aizen was one, because even Kisuke’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to let Ichigo face off against that madman alone. The Quincy were another, strong enough an enemy that it had to be all hands on deck, and even then, Kisuke barely made it out alive from that war.

He intervenes when Ichigo needs him to do more than pull the right strings, and that’s what’s happening now. It’s not actually even a particularly strong opponent, just a rather bothersome one - a group of rogue Shinigami who’ve merged with a type of Hollow not unlike the once-Ninth Espada and the Reigai, enabling them to wear the faces of anyone they’ve laid eyes on, copying everything from clothes to Zanpakutou, down to a matching reiatsu signature. It’s what threw Seireitei into a state of panic earlier, when one rogue strode into the First Division and almost stabbed Kyouraku through the chest while looking like Ise Nanao, who was - thankfully - found later, knocked out in a supply closet. Apparently, the rogue Shinigami can’t _continue_ copying someone if that someone’s dead, so there’s at least that small mercy even if there were a few hours there when nobody knew what was going on, with friends turning traitors all over the place, and then another few hours when nobody knew whom they could trust.

Yoruichi was the one who sent word down, that Seireitei was once again in a state of mass chaos, along with a summary of what was going on and a request (demand) for him to call Ichigo because they needed a fresh face that the enemy hadn’t seen yet. Kisuke called Ichigo, who certainly wasn’t very happy about being pulled out of class, but the great thing about college was that nobody took attendance, and after wringing a promise out of Ishida - who absolutely refused to miss more school and told Ichigo in no uncertain terms that the Shinigami could all just go and die for all he cared if they couldn’t even handle their own damn problems - to take notes for him, Ichigo had Garganta’d his way home, listened irritably to Kisuke’s succinct explanation about Soul Society’s latest clusterfuck, grabbed the scarf headpiece Kisuke offered him (Ichigo doesn’t ask where it came from so Kisuke doesn’t tell him it’s part of his old Onmitsukidou uniform), and stomped off for Seireitei, muttering darkly under his breath the entire time.

Kisuke didn’t blame him. The invasion just two weeks ago _lasted_ a week and subsequently made Ichigo - and all his human friends - miss all their midterms, and Kisuke’s pretty certain it was only because Ishida Senior managed to procure genuine-looking doctor’s notes for them that nobody ended up at the Fourth from exposure to just how pissed off even sweet Inoue-san was.

And now, three hours later, here they all are, gathered in the skies above Seireitei, having finally whittled the rogues down to one. The remaining woman is shape-shifting desperately between captains even as she babbles something about the fall of Shinigami and their deserved end due to their prejudice, etc, etc, etc. In terms of skill, she’s not even that strong. Sui-Feng’s already gearing up to take her out as they move in from all directions to surround her.

Kisuke’s only here because a bit of dissection into a piece of the Hollow that Ichigo managed to hack off and stuff into a jar for him earlier told him that it wasn’t just someone’s _current_ DNA it could copy-- it also skimmed that person’s past appearances, and Kisuke arrived just in time to prevent a broken and bleeding post-Hollowfication Shinji of a hundred years ago from dealing a frozen, horrified Hiyori a critical blow. The real Shinji appeared a moment later, took one look around, and beheaded his lookalike before they could even change back to their actual appearance.

From there, everybody was warned about what to look for, Ichigo managed to defeat three more on his own in addition to the two that were walking around as Rukia and Renji but apparently not well enough because a few minutes of observation was enough for Ichigo to decide they were fakes, and the Shinigami finally pulled themselves together enough to kill six more, leaving one woman still standing. She played a decent game of hide-and-seek, even Kisuke could admit, but surrounded as she is now, there’s definitely no way out for her.

Except-

She shuts up, abruptly, and she stops shapeshifting, swinging around to face Ichigo instead, who’s tugged down the cloth that was used to cover half his face now that it’s no longer necessary. She looks fit to foam at the mouth as she points and shrieks, “You! You’re not even a Shinigami! You’re a hybrid like us but you’re helping _them!_ _Traitor!_ ”

The woman must not know that half the upper echelon technically consists of hybrids these days, but she’s apparently done just enough research to recognize who Ichigo is despite never having seen his face until now.

They all tense up in preparation for the woman shifting into Ichigo, because even if the copies aren’t as strong as the original, no one - with the possible exception of Kenpachi - wants to fight a madwoman with Ichigo’s unique set of powers.

Ichigo seems to be of the same mind, and he’s already lunging for the woman even as her image blurs and contorts white before reforming into-

Kisuke lurches forward, an unsightly motion that he barely notices as he recognizes the light blond hair and striped green hat, a perfect copy down to the wooden sandals and even the Zanpakutou in its sealed shikomizue form, a mirror of the one Kisuke is holding in his own hand.

But it’s not Kisuke’s _current_ appearance she turns into. Instead, as the woman wearing his face lifts her head to reveal blood-streaked cheeks, liquid crimson spilling from dead and empty eye sockets, it’s Kisuke right after Askin’s Gift Ring attack reduced his sight to pain and darkness, before Benihime restructured them, and certainly before Inoue managed to heal the worst of the consequent scarring in the aftermath of the Quincy War.

“Ichigo-!” Kisuke tries to warn, not quite a shout, but alarmed enough that the exclamation is certainly several decibels louder than his usual volume. But he isn’t even sure what he could say, and the second Ichigo catches a glimpse of the-woman-turned-Kisuke’s bloody face, he jerks like he’s tripped over something, a flinch ripples across his face like he’s been struck, and the way his wrist twitches to the side, making Zangetsu swerve around his target instead is entirely instinctual, but that single moment of distraction is enough for the rogue to bury her sword - _Kisuke’s sword_ \- into Ichigo’s gut.

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Kisuke is no different in that he too stares, for a moment that feels like it lasts an eternity, at the blood that darkens Ichigo’s uniform even further, at the shock on Ichigo’s face, at the wide, crazed grin on Kisuke’s own stolen face.

Then, the woman’s form warps back to her own, Kisuke’s figure falling away as she pulls back, laughing triumphantly as she yanks her sword out, mouth opening to say something.

She doesn’t get the chance.

A blink. A beat. Nobody sees him move. Yoruichi didn’t boot him out of Onmitsukidou because his skills were getting rusty or because somebody else was better qualified in terms of strength. It’s at least half the reason Sui-Feng still despises him today.

Benihime - unsheathed with sparks of bloodlust red already dancing along its edge - shatters the woman’s spine from behind and skewers her heart in the same thrust. She chokes on a scream, jerking like an insect mounted alive before slowly sliding off Kisuke’s blade, leaving a smear of wet crimson behind as she begins to fall.

(She gets one last glimpse of the world before she starts falling, before she dies, and she wishes she didn’t, because when she looks back over her shoulder, even with agony hazing out her vision, the potent rage in her killer’s flat grey gaze is the most terrifying thing she’s ever seen. His reiatsu is a drowning thing, clogging her lungs and closing around her throat, and the blackness that takes her before she even hits the ground is almost a relief.)

(Kisuke doesn’t know what he looks like in that moment, eyes flashing the kind of wrath that could burn civilizations to the ground, his reiatsu a maelstrom of feral savagery, usually so well hidden behind the calm light-hearted formalities and jokes that most people these days associate him with.

He used to look like that for her, Yoruichi recalls, only a touch wistfully.)

Kisuke dismisses her the moment she’s no longer a concern. A blink, a beat, and he’s at Ichigo’s side just as the younger man coughs, blood bubbling over his bottom lip, barely hanging onto Zangetsu even as he slumps into Kisuke’s chest.

“I have you,” Kisuke assures, tucking Benihime under one arm and taking Zangetsu off Ichigo as well before wrapping his other arm around Ichigo even as his hands light up with the green of healing Kidou, one pressed to Ichigo’s front, the other to his back where the sword ran clean through.

“Fuck, that was stupid,” Ichigo mutters, coughing again, and he succumbs easily enough to Kisuke’s manhandling as he gently shunpos both of them back onto flat ground.

“Quite,” Kisuke agrees and gets a half-hearted elbow to the ribs in return, which almost makes him breathe a sigh of relief. The damage isn’t too bad, as it turns out-- it missed the most important organs, and without Inoue, there’s going to be a scar, but Ichigo will be walking again by tomorrow.

Kotetsu Isane lands a few feet away, her hoari fluttering in the wind, and hesitantly suggests taking Ichigo to the Fourth.

 _They get weaker with every generation_ , Kisuke can’t help but think. Unohana wouldn’t have suggested anything; she would’ve phrased it politely, but even an Eleventh Division member would’ve known it was anything but.

Even now, Aizen’s influence remains.

“Nah, I’m fine,” It’s Ichigo who says, waving a hand in the air. “Kisuke’s good at healing, and after, I can just crash back at home. You’d be better off checking on any other Shinigami who were injured.”

Kotetsu agrees and takes off, and Kisuke doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s relieved she doesn’t have to get any closer to him.

He thinks… he probably shouldn’t have lost his temper like that. He hasn’t in a very long time. But of course, if anybody could pull it from him, it would be Ichigo.

“Oi,” This time it’s Shinji, landing carelessly on Ichigo’s other side and not even blinking when Kisuke glances at him. The captain just snaps open a Garganta and gestures through. “I’ll take ya both back ta the shop.”

Kisuke doesn’t let up on the healing but he does stare at Shinji for a moment before dropping his gaze to the wound in Ichigo’s abdomen again. “Anything to get out of the cleanup, Shinji-san?”

“Ya caught me,” Shinji agrees shamelessly. “Now let’s go. Don’t drop the princess now.”

“Who’re you calling a- hey!”

Kisuke sweeps him up into a princess-carry, ignoring Ichigo’s protests. He can hardly sling the younger man onto his back in the state he’s in.

Shinji snickers as he paves the way between worlds with a glittering path of his reiatsu beneath their feet, and there’s a knowing look in his eyes that almost seems to approve, of all things.

Kisuke pays him no mind. Ichigo is alive, and healing. For now, that’s all that matters.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *For information on UraIchi Week, [go here](https://uraichiweek.tumblr.com/).


End file.
